Plumes of white loom in yellow light as if to shield me from the night.

Pyrotechnics dance a hectic circle, trapped and tragic.

People flood the streets with feet and blood.

Memories return to natures urn where I lay still, heart in flurries.

The moon never brings me joy, yet i  allow it to toy.
The sun hurts my skin, yet cleanses the sin.

a Cost       to Remain      Lost. Such a pain.